Tight Rope

I cannot see the world
in the footsteps of giants,
or in the tunnels of mice;
on either pole of ice.

I cannot swim the seas
within a frozen ease
nor in a fleshy lake
(nor in a salty, broken wake).

I cannot breathe the sky
by sniffing at the ground
nor fishing in a cave
for a rotted, slapping sound.

I can feel some earth downtown-
soil below me slung.
My feet, they seem just fine
for balancing 'pon twine.